


Remarkably human

by lanondolce



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Canon Asexual Character, Character Study, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hand Jobs, M/M, Sex Positive Asexual Character, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-16 07:21:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29821404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lanondolce/pseuds/lanondolce
Summary: Martin is utterly fascinated with Jon's body. Jon finds it amusing.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 12
Kudos: 80





	Remarkably human

Though Jon's libido (or rather, lack of thereof) had been a great source of shame and insecurity in his youth, now, as a grown man, he had come to terms with that part of himself. 

After all, he would never dream of discriminating against, say, gay people, for their sexual preferences, and he came to the resolution that he shouldn't feel vitriol towards himself for what was, essentially, the same thing. 

But he wasn't completely devoid of urges, either. He was human, after all (right?) and from time to time, he too had to scratch that biological itch. But it was more of a nuisance to him if anything; it was annoying, like those cramps of hunger he'd get when he'd been so absorbed in his work he'd forgotten to eat, or when he had been holding it in for a while and really had to go. And while the act of release was...pleasant, it was just that. A fleeting moment of physical pleasure, a rush of endorphins. Once it was over with, he had no interest in doing it again. And he certainly had no interest in doing it with anyone else.

Things changed, of course, when he entered a relationship with Martin.

He was well aware of how...enthralled, people (and society as a whole) were with the concept of sex. Seeing as it was coded into their very DNA for the sake of continuing their species, he guessed it was fair, but at times, he couldn't help but find it...irritating. Yes, yes, hormones and all that-but certainly, there were other worthwhile topics to discuss, no? Things that mattered more than carnal intimacy or the hedonistic pleasures of flesh. 

However, as his relationship with his assistant progressed, he began to see certain things in a different light. 

He knew physical intimacy-and not just of the sexual kind, was something that humans valued. No, that they desperately craved, that they needed, just as they needed food or water to sustain themselves: the desire to seek out the warmth of another body, to feel a gentle heartbeat thrumming under skin or bask in the familiar scent of a loved one. It was something Jon had denied himself for a long, long while. And it was only when he felt large hands cupping his face, or fingers threading his hair, that he realized how he had been aching for that kind of touch.

Martin was gentle. He always was- and Jon appreciated it, although he could never find a way to put the sentiment into words. When he tried, his tongue would tie into a knot and he'd just sputter, the tips of his ears turning red. Martin would laugh, deep down equally as awkward and embarrassed, and just nuzzle his forehead against his.

The other man was well aware of Jon's disinterest in sex. Which was probably why he never brought it up-he appeared almost skittish, as if he would scare Jon off if he accidentally let any feelings of lust show. Jon, of course, found this ridiculous. Martin had never been good at hiding things, and he certainly wasn't good at hiding something as obvious as the heady looks of desire he'd throw Jon's way, when he was convinced the other man wasn't looking.  
Jon didn't really understand what he saw in him, especially from a physical standpoint. Again, maybe it was due to his predisposition, but honestly, what about his lanky, skinny body aroused him? He wasn't…unattractive, he guessed-high, pronounced cheekbones and sharp eyes, yeah, they probably counted for something. But he was no model, either. 

Jon contemplated thoughts like these. They were occasional, fleeting-but still on the back of his mind, surfacing every now and then.

Like when he was laid next to Martin, nestled into his warmth, head resting on a broad chest as his eyelids fluttered open and warm sunlight filtered through the windows.

Sleeping together wasn't uncommon for them. They would just lay there, huddled in an embrace, saying nothing (though sometimes Martin would start rambling, go on and on about some documentary or show he had seen as of late, while Jon only half payed attention as his drowsiness grew) and comfortably drift off to sleep together as the dreams claimed them. And Jon felt...safe like he hadn't felt in a long, long while. If ever.

It was in these circumstances that he noticed, not without a twinkle of something like amusement in his eyes, that his partner was sporting a tent.

Not uncommon, even Jon was prone to the occasional morning wood. He wondered wether or not he should say something about it as he gently shook Martin awake. It was getting late, anyways, and they'd have to start preparing for work soon.

Martin groaned, shifting slightly, before his own eyes opened and he turned to Jon with a small, lazy smile.

He had the largest, roundest eyes Jon had ever seen. The phrasing "puppy dog" came to mind. They were warm and hazel, and Jon sometimes felt he would trip and fall inside them if he stared for too long. 

"G'mornin', Jon..." He mumbled, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. Jon in turn smiled. 

The comfortable atmosphere that had formed was shattered when Martin suddenly became aware of his lower body's conditions. He threw the sheets off of him, cheeks flushed a deep red and the freckles dotting his face appearing more pronounced as a result.

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, uh-"

"Martin, don't be stupid, of course you didn't mean to. It's just a biological reaction. It's normal."

"Yeah, but..." Martin trailed, pursing his lips. Jon sighed, deciding now was as good a time as any to bring up this topic the both of them had been dancing around for quite a while. 

"Martin, do you honestly think I'd be mad at you for something like this?"

"N-no-! Of course not, I just, well..." His eyes darted back and forth, refusing to meet Jon's as he rubbed the back of his neck "…I just don't want to make you uncomfortable. That's all." He said finally with a slight sigh.

Jon responded with a longer one of his own.

"I...get that, and I appreciate it Martin, I really do, but..." He trailed off for a second, the words didn't come to him naturally in situations such as these, they never did, but he was determined to force something out of his throat, in spite of how incoherent his sentences would surely end up being "…I realize, that, well, you have certain urges. And you can't help them. And it isn't fair of me to deny things that are usually expected from other partners in a relationship."

"But it isn't fair of me to force you into something you don't want to do-!"

"Who says you're forcing me, Martin? Or that I don't want to do it?"

At this, the other's eyes widened, mouth hanging open for a few seconds.

"Well, I just thought that...uhm..."

"I'm not...interested in sex, yes, but I'm not entirely averse to it. Especially, well...especially if it just boils down to helping you out with something."

It took Martin a few seconds to process the meaning of Jon's words, and when they did, he somehow flushed an ever deeper shade of crimson.

"W-well, I, uhm, I-"

Jon couldn't help the small laugh that escaped from his lips. Adorable. That was the only adjective he could come up with, childish as it was. His boyfriend was positively and utterly adorable. 

Jon slowly positioned himself on top of Martin. He was bigger than him in every sense of the word: full where Jon was skin and bones, tall and broad whereas Jon barely passed the 5"4 mark. But he somehow felt small underneath him, vulnerable, almost.  
Jon did his best to compose himself and stay in control of the situation, in spite of the fact he barely knew what he was doing. Scratch that, he had no clue at all. 

"Here, let me...uhm..." With a shaky hand, Jon palmed Martin's erection. He was only half-hard at this point, but if the jolt the other gave at his barely there touch was any indicator, that would change quickly.

"R-really Jon, you really don't have to..."

"I know I don't. But I want to."

Martin had nothing to say that, so he simply stared, transfixed.

It was...odd, Jon thought to himself, as he felt him up. The fabric was thin and did nothing to conceal his growing erection. It was odd, but fascinating, in a way-Jon had only ever touched himself like this, and Georgie had been very much not equipped with male genitalia.   
He could tell he was probably bigger than him. He stroked and fondled him, movements unsure, but he did have a clear goal in mind: providing Martin some relief. And possibly, some reassurance. 

He let his fingers trail up to the elastic of his boxer shorts, and his eyes fleeted upwards. He said nothing, but the brief moment of pause communicated his intentions clearly. Martin gave a small nod, and Jon pulled the cloth down with a single movement. 

His cock sprung from underneath it in a manner that clearly made Martin embarrassed, and once again, that faint sense of amusement did a little dance in Jon's chest. 

"Well, you're...certainly eager."

Martin gulped "I, I'm sorry, I-"

"Christ, Martin, I already told you, there's no need to apologise." He ran his index up the shaft in a manner that could be described as "inquisitive". It was warm to the touch, unsurprisingly-hot, even, and a single vein ran up the side. Jon traced it, taking in the shape and texture. Martin shivered, letting out a high-pitched, airy gasp.

"J-Jon..." He mumbled, biting his lower lip. His voice was laced with something like desperation, and that was when Jon realized he was probably driving him a little mad. With just these faint, light touches-that he hadn't meant, to be perfectly honest. But nonetheless, he granted his partner the small mercy of firmly wrapping his hand around the base. Martin shivered again.

"…Have you ever thought of this, Martin? Of me...well, giving you a handjob." He gave an experimental tug. Too dry, that wouldn't do. But it wasn't like he carried lube around with him or anything. He guessed that spitting into his hand-as embarrassing and slightly shameful as it was-would have to suffice.

The other followed his every movement, hungry eyes taking in the way Jon gripped his cock again. He swallowed.

"Uhm...yeah...obviously..." He inhaled sharply as Jon began pumping up and down. It was a steady pace; he was usually far rougher with himself, if only because he wanted to get it over with as soon as possible and, practically forced the orgasm out of his system. But he wanted Martin to actually enjoy this. So his movements were slow, unhurried as he worked his shaft, hoping his eyes didn't betray the slight unease he felt.

"Hm, really? Tell me about it, then." But he was curious, frankly. That was a thing about him. He was curious about everything, even the things he was better off not knowing about-especially those. So he really did want to know what role he played in the other's fantasies, he mused to himself as he focused on the way the foreskin covered and uncovered the pink glands with each jerk. 

"Hm, well, _ah_ -!" Martin let out something halfway between a moan and a squeak when Jon pressed his thumb in the slit of Martin's cock. He knew the tip was fairly more sensitive than the rest of it, and Martin seemed to enjoy it. Should he focus his efforts there-?

"You...would be in this same position...I guess...as you would...well, play with my dick...and maybe...t-take it in your mouth."

Jon's eyebrows raised at this, though not in surprise. He thumbed the slit again, and he let out another sweet sounding cry. It was...amusing, really, highly entertaining, to see how Martin squirmed. How responsive he was to his touch, how he reacted when certain parts of him were stimulated. Though Jon wouldn't say he was getting off on it, he wouldn't say it was doing nothing for him, either. 

"How?"

"W-wha-"

"What would I do exactly, Martin? Please indulge me, if you don't mind. Consider it your way of returning the favor."

Martin swallowed for what seemed the umpteenth time that day. It was...fairly embarrassing. Even if they had been partners for a good few months now, this was all new territory for them, foreign grounds they were treading on. So he really didn't want to push it, didn't want to overstep a boundary he had accidentally overlooked: but something about the tone of Jon's voice, about the way he was staring at him as if he could see into his very soul, compelled him to speak. 

"I'd... you'd…maybe start at the tip...yeah, _haa-_ " he whined, as Jon gave a tug that was more forceful than the others "-and you'd…lick it. Swirl your tongue around it, suck on it..." Martin's hips involuntarily bucked up, and Jon had to pin him down with his free hand (though it didn't do much good, since he hardly had the strength to keep him still).

Martin was silent for a moment, eyes screwed shut, before he began breathing again and Jon realized that he had been holding his breath. 

"And...I could get to run my hands through your hair...you have such pretty hair...black, r-raven black, with streaks of gray...pretty..." Martin full on whimpered as Jon sped up, twisting his hand. The sounds were, quite frankly, obscene, and they got louder and louder as his pace quickened. But Jon didn't mind them.

Martin's breathing was starting to become labored, and his mouth hung open as he panted, lips parted and slick with saliva. 

"And...then...you'd swallow me...maybe to the base, m-maybe, not, _anh_ -! Ah, shit, that's good...but...it would really just be...really just be..." 

Jon said nothing and continued working the other's cock, the room quiet sans for rythmic sounds of Jon's handiwork and Martin's pleasure.

"It would just be...a p-prelude of sorts...yeah..."

"Oh, really, to what?" Jon had a good idea, but he asked anyways, if only to relish in the whimper that followed.

"To...sex..." his hips buck again, and from the way precum was starting to leak from the tip, Jon could tell he was getting close. A small voice in the back of his mind prompted him to lean down and lap at it, taste it-but that was not quite something he felt like doing today, not to mention, he had the distinct feeling the clear substance would taste positively foul, or at the very least gross.

"I...have always wanted to see you...on your back...splayed out...l-legs wide...see the way, a-ah-! See the way- _Jon, Jonplease_ \- you would react if I...ran my hands all the way down to the small of your back, a-and then to your legs, the...inside of your thighs..." his voice tapered off into a moan again. Jon's hand was starting hurt from the strain, but he paid the ache in his wrist no heed as he listened intently, working Martin's cock with renewed vigor. 

"I... _haa_ -! Love your legs...I've only seen them bare...not many times... they're slender...p-pretty..."

"Aren't you a poet, Martin? I'd have thought you could surely come up with other adjectives aside from 'pretty' to define my supposed to good looks."

"But you are-! You're so, pretty, thin, your skin is such a beautiful color, and your eyes are such a nice shape and you have such a nice ass and I'd really like to touch it and knead it and, and, _fuckfuckfuck_ -" he fisted the sheets. Any moment now, Jon grit his teeth through the pain and kept pumping, intent on bringing Martin to completion.

But those words echoed in the back of his head, like they probably would for a long while. He had always seen himself as lanky and scrawny. Thin, surely, but not in the standard, attractive way that many people coveted. And yet here Martin was, honest as ever, heart on his sleeve, desperate pleas and babbles spilling from his lips. And in-between them always sounded out a name-his name. Jon. 

Pretty. Beautiful. Perfect, even, which nearly made him scoff.

And yet, those were Martin's true feelings. 

"And, and, I'd think of being inside you, of getting to feel how tight and warm you'd be around me and how gorgeous you'd look lying down on your stomach and how lovely your voice would sound when I, if I, could-!" With a choked moan, far louder than all the others, Martin finally tipped over the edge. The white substance came out in spurts, dirtying his own stomach and Jon's hand, who worked him through his orgasm and didn't stop until he had wrung out every single last drop.

Martin's eyes were closed and his head was thrown back as he panted. Jon let go of his cock, and took a moment to appreciate the sight: he was all red-faced and teary eyed, a hand on his chest that rose and fell with his heavy breathing, spent as if he had just run a marathon. A look that suited him, in his opinion. 

"Well...I... hope you enjoyed that." He was overcome by a sudden awkwardness, however, now that Martin's orgasm was starting to fade and the energy that had crackled in the room up until now disappeared. 

"I, it was wonderful, Jon! Really, uhm...you sure you've never done this before...?"

"What? Given someone a hand-job or jerked off?"

"Uh, both."

"Well, I've certainly never been with another man before you, if that's what you were wondering. But I've masturbated before."

"Oh, right. Of course."

Martin coughed. His cheeks were still flushed, and it was now that Jon took notice of the droplets of sweat that had formed on his forehead. He leaned forward, and Martin picked up on his cue to do the same, placing a soft, chaste kiss on the other's lips.

"By the way, all those things you said...who knows, maybe they're going to come true." A certain light in Jon's eyes twinkled as he whispered the words into the other's ear, and something that could be liberally interpreted as a smirk formed on his lips. Martin let out a small squeak in response, and buried his face in the crook of Jon's neck.

**Author's Note:**

> Horny disaster bisexual author tries to put themselves in the headspace of an ace character more at 12
> 
> Anyways I'm back on my bullshit and writing while I have a migraine again because I hate myself apparently. Also I've binged over 100 episodes of tma in less than a month uuuhhh 3k pwp one shots are all I'm mentally equipped to write for now so just take this sjdkfkfk
> 
> Ty for reading!!


End file.
